At the Rainbow's End (8 page)

“I am under the impression that I am to be allowed to determine what I wish to do about this situation. Until I do, I think you should pay me for my housekeeping services.”

“Pay for your services?” He lowered his voice as Kevin laughed. Then, as if there had been no interruption, he said, “I had assumed you were willing to work in exchange for your room and board.”

“You assumed wrong.” She started to rise. His hand on her wrist halted her. “Release me.”

Joel paid no attention to her order. His face, etched by the cold winds and uncompromising sun, drew close to hers as he asked, “Can you cook?”

“Of course,” she said, insulted. “I'm no shrinking hothouse flower. I came here ready to take care of a house for …”

“Now you expect to be paid for cooking for us.” He glanced over her head to his partner. “What do you say, Kev?”

Kevin bit his lip nervously. He did not want to do anything to prejudice her against him, but he knew the state of their finances too well. One of the lucky men to strike gold paid his cook over a hundred dollars each month, plus room and board. Only a few hundred dollars worth of dust remained in their money box. With the highly inflated prices in the Yukon, it would not last long. If they did not find more dust than needed for supplies soon, they would be forced to sell their claim. Yet, if he said no …

“We do need someone to tend to those things,” he said slowly.

“That I saw quickly,” said Samantha, looking at the front of Joel's shirt, which looked as if it had been splashed with filth months ago. It had dried to the consistency of dry river mud and cracked along the material. “Do we have an agreement, gentlemen?”

As Kevin started to nod, Joel fired him a fierce expression. “We haven't discussed the terms of this so-called agreement.”

With icy hauteur, she folded her arms across her chest. Then she said, “I want a third of everything found on this claim.”

“You have to be crazy!” shouted the dark-haired man.

She shrugged, apparently unconcerned by his outburst.

“Those are my terms. If you don't like them, I should begin packing. I'll return to Dawson. I can work for Mrs. Kellogg.” She stood and turned toward the ladder.

Joel stepped in front of her. The breadth of his shoulders cut off the rest of the room from her view. Determined he would not overwhelm her with his virile strength, she started to brush past him.

His hand settled on her arms like iron manacles. He held her motionless, with no sign of strain. Under his faded flannel shirt he was as hardened as the land around them. Silenced, she gazed up into his fiery blue eyes.

Her delight at making him lose his calm disappeared. His fury daunted her as nothing ever had. She thought she had seen strong feelings from this volatile man, but the stroke of his fingers along her arm signaled powerful new emotions. She could read what was on his mind in his smile.

Fearful, she tried to pull away. She did not like the way his touch made her feel weak, as it had when she learned the truth in the muddy yard outside the cabin. Her heartbeat sounded loudly in her ears, and she prayed he would not hear it and discover how he upset her.

Fighting her panic, Samantha moved slowly out of his grip, relieved when he released her. She dropped back onto the bench, frightened. Soon, though, rage spiraled through her. She was thinking of the goods and the lovely wedding gown in her luggage. She had spent her share of the small inheritance from her parents on these foolish things. Now she had no house to display the dishes in, no husband to see her in the filmy
peignoir
hidden in the deepest recesses of her largest bag.

She flushed. Many of her dreams had revolved around the kisses and sweet caresses she would share with the man she had expected to find here. None of those too distant dreams would become reality.

“Well?” she asked, hating her shaky tone. She turned her back to Joel, avoiding the amusement she was sure was on his face. Trying to hold Kevin's eyes, she feigned control of her careening emotions.

Kevin smiled tentatively and looked at his partner.

“Joel?”

The other man scowled. All Samantha Perry had done was write to them. While they froze in the icy waters of the Bonanza, working until their backs ached and their legs grew numb, she had been living in comparable comfort on her brother's farm in the States.

He was not surprised she did not glance in his direction. When he held her close, he had seen a quick flash of the true Samantha behind her cold facade—the Samantha who wrote the loving letters he had read aloud during the most vicious nights of the Klondike winter. He wanted a chance to see if he liked the real woman she hid so adroitly.

“One third of everything we make,” he said grudgingly. “You'll start getting your share as soon as you pay us back for your fare. You realize it cost us more than a thousand dollars? It may be a while before you can pay that much back.”

Samantha longed to finish this uncomfortable conversation. Instead of arguing further, she nodded. “That seems fair.” Because she would reimburse them for her fare, she no longer felt obligated to her promise of marriage, but she would not tell them. They had kept a secret from her. Now it was her turn.

Instead of reacting with anger, Joel clapped his partner on the back. “That's settled. Let's get to work. The springtide is proving very profitable for some of our neighbors. Let's hope we're as lucky.” He paused at the door to grin at Samantha. “All of us to work. Is
that
understood?”

Although she wanted to spit out a sharp answer, she would not allow him to unbalance her again. She had to keep her emotions corraled, to emerge as the victor from this strange situation.

With a sigh, she stood and looked around the cabin. Work in plenty awaited her. Dipping her hands in the now tepid water to finish the dishes, she began to bring the cabin to some form of cleanliness.

All day she slaved. The cabin was in worse condition than she had suspected. When she found a broom hidden in a corner behind the ladder, she wondered if the men knew what a valuable artifact they possessed. Mrs. Kellogg had lamented the lack of such basic necessities. Parisian gowns waited to be purchased by the wealthy for their favorite mistresses, but brooms were scarce in the Yukon.

Starting in the addition, which was empty save for a second, smaller stove sitting in a fireplace, she began to sweep. The uneven floorboards interrupted each stroke. That room proved simple compared to the task in the main section.

First, her room in the loft. She climbed the ladder slowly, hampered by her skirts and the broom.

Finished on the upper story, she carried a paper filled with dirt to the first floor and tossed it out the door.

In the front room, she used the broom to clear all the dust and lost possessions out from beneath the bed frame. The dirty clothes went into a bucket, to be washed the next day. Things which appeared to be tools were stored in one of the corners of the addition. She would insist that more pegs be hammered in the walls to hold these items.

A smile drifting across her face, she began a list of tasks the men must do to bring the cabin into the condition she expected. She would do the top of the single table herself, sanding out the grease and dirt ground into it. The other furniture consisted of the bed frame, a washstand, and the two benches. She would be able to rearrange things for more efficiency with little effort.

She could not identify some of the things she found under the bed. She placed these in a pile by the door. If they were garbage, as she suspected, they could be thrown out behind the cabin with the other trash. They might have some value. She would let the men decide.

Once the room was swept and the floor scrubbed, Samantha went to the one bag she had not unpacked. Beneath the wedding gown waited a few luxuries and household items which would brighten the ugly rooms. Singing, cheerful, she refused to think of how she had longed to wear that pink dress.

Promising herself to get those things as soon as she cleaned the stove and began dinner, she turned to her next task. Her enthusiasm dimmed when she saw how little water waited in the pail. Kevin had warned her how far the spring was from the house.

She sighed. This life might be harder than she had thought.

The men did not hide their surprise when they entered the cabin after their long hard hours on the bank of the Bonanza. The undeniable and almost forgotten scent of freshly baked bread and roasting meat reached out, urging them to sit at the table, but they remained frozen in the doorway, stunned that a few hours could make such a difference.

While Samantha climbed down the ladder to check their meal, they admired her as much as the cabin. Kevin glanced from the beautiful woman to his partner. For the first time, he wondered if they could keep their bargain and wait. Joel clearly wanted the pretty Samantha as he did. She would choose one of them, if they convinced her to stay. He did not know if the loser could take solace in knowing next year another bride could be found.

“I didn't know exactly when you'd be back, so I'm afraid the venison stew may be overcooked.” She gestured toward the table. “Please sit. Everything is ready.”

Kevin scurried around the table and took the cast iron pot from her. “That's too heavy for you, Samantha. Let me carry it for you.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. She could not help being charmed by Kevin's earnest desire to make her feel at home. Whether he truly regretted his part in this charade or not, he acted chagrined. Not like his partner.

Joel sat next to one of the plates, his elbows firmly on the table and his eyes on her. A heat flooded through her as his gaze traveled appreciatively up her body to meet her eyes. His smile broadened when he saw her disquiet.

Hastily breaking the spell of his knowing stare, she dished out food and sat. She smiled swiftly at Kevin as she picked up her fork.

“This is good,” said Joel.

“You don't have to sound so surprised!” she said, blushing. She had not intended to put such heat into the words.

“When we asked you to come north, we forgot to ask if you could cook.” He pointed his fork at the man across from him. “Make a note, partner. Next time we search for a bride, we want to be sure she can cook as well as our Samantha. We may not be so lucky next time.”

“Joel, enough of that for now.” He flashed an apology to the scarlet cheeked woman. “You'll have to get used to him, Samantha. He's outspoken.”

“Uncouth, he means,” said Joel.

Samantha did not look at either man. She recalled her dreams of being here with the man she had loved, a man who looked like Kevin, but did not act like either of them, the man who had quoted poetry in his letters and spoken to her of long walks beside the cascading waters of the Bonanza.

She forced her pain and homesickness deep within her, and quietly ate while they discussed the day's labor and what they would do tomorrow. Many of the terms they used were alien to her. It seemed at times as if they no longer spoke English.

“Fifteen Above? Why do you call the claim that?” she asked.

Kevin explained that the initial claim belonged to George Carmack, who first found gold in the water of the stream then called Rabbit Creek. Each claim staked after that was numbered as above, or upstream, and below, or downstream, from the original grant. Fifteen Above, which Kevin and Joel had gotten by rushing here ahead of many others, was in the area rumored to be gold rich.

“But you've found no gold?”

“Not enough.” His eyes were sad behind the dusty lenses of his glasses. “Things are so expensive here that even at $16 for an ounce of gold, a man has to find a fortune to keep himself in provisions.”

She nodded. “When I saw what Mrs. Kellogg was charging for laundering shirts, I knew other prices must be as high. The men paid eagerly what she charged.”

“Well, you'll find no such luxuries as a laundry out here on the Bonanza,” said Joel.

“I didn't expect that.” Samantha regarded him seriously. “If you'll let me have that shirt and anything else you need cleaned, I can wash them tomorrow.”

“How generous of you!”

Before she could snap out an answer, Kevin growled, “Enough, Joel. She's trying to be nice.”

“Is she?” He snorted as he served himself another serving of the roast venison and vegetables. “She's just doing what she promised to. That's nothing to get excited about.”

“And what
do
you get excited about?” she demanded.

His sudden smile told her she had asked the question the wrong way, but he did not answer with the obscene response she expected. “What makes me excited, Samantha? One word will tell you. Gold! A river of gold! The same thing every man within fifty miles wants. Wealth enough never to have to cater to the demands of another man as long as I live.”

She stared at him, seeing deep honest emotion on his face. Tearing her gaze from him, she looked at Kevin.

As Kevin nodded agreement, she understood these men who controlled her life. Nothing mattered to them as much as the glittering prize which could buy them power, and all the material possessions they wanted—not the cabin, not their partnership, certainly not her.

At Fifteen Above for one day, Samantha had learned how she would fit in the men's lives. More than ever, she was determined to regain her dreams before she did something foolish. Like forgiving one of them.

Chapter Five

The short chunk of wood tipped over on top of the stump just as Samantha was about to swing the small axe into it. She needed more wood for the fire. If she wanted kindling for cooking, she had to chop it herself. Once she had waited for Joel and Kevin to help. In the past week, she had received reminders that she wanted to be a full partner. She must work at the cabin while they labored at the river.

Setting the wood upright, she raised the axe again. She swore vehemently as the limb dropped on to its side once more. As she was about to try a third time, she heard laughter. Slowly glancing over her shoulder, she saw a smile nearly as bright as the glittering sun.